


Special Delivery

by gimmefire



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Creepy, Delusions, M/M, Obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis' love of Ayrton turns into a damaging obsession with his nephew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [motorskink](http://motorskink.livejournal.com) prompt. Title is from The Offspring's _[Special Delivery](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/offspring/specialdelivery.html)_. Beta thankee for [mackem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mackem).

"Don't you miss that cap you used to wear?"

Bruno turned his head at the rather out-of-the-blue question, blinking at Lewis. "Cap?"

"You know, the blue one. The one you wore _all the time_ ," Lewis grinned. He moved to ruffle Bruno's wild hair. "Doesn't your head get cold?"

Bruno leaned away from the attentions of Lewis's hand, shooting him a lazy glare. "My head is fine, thank you for your concern. Don't you miss your afro?"

Lewis's wayward hand switched back to cast over his own be-capped head, as if rubbing the closely cropped hair beneath. "No way," he laughed, cringing a little. "I've not had that for ages, but your hat, man. That was a part of you for so long."

"I do wear other hats, you know."

"I bet it doesn't feel the same, though, right?"

Bruno was beginning to get the impression that there was something behind Lewis's dogged persistence, that perhaps this wasn't just idle banter; he dismissed the notion and sighed.

"At first it was strange," he admitted, placing a hand over his heart in a faux-sincere manner. "But I've come to terms with it now."

Lewis gave him a slightly odd look before the grin slid back into place. They didn't talk about hats for the remainder of the drivers' parade, much to Bruno's relief.

 

Whether Lewis was hanging around with him more, or if he was just noticing Lewis around more after their conversation, Bruno didn't know. Three race weekends had passed since their peculiar exchange about his blue Embratel hat, and Bruno certainly had an increased awareness of Lewis's presence. He seemed to greet Bruno more warmly, seemed to text him more often and, if Bruno went out to a club, Lewis would usually be there too. It wasn't stalking, as such; invariably Bruno had told Lewis in passing that he'd be going out that evening, and they'd each be there with their own set of friends. Lewis would always approach him and strike up a conversation. They were never about hats.

It wasn't stalking, Bruno told himself. Of course it wasn't. Ridiculous.

It wasn't stalking at all until Karun remarked on it one night in bed.

"I never realised you and Lewis were that close."

"Hm? We're not."

Karun nodded, obviously unconvinced. After a pregnant pause, he mused, "Maybe he likes you."

Bruno gave a bemused laugh. "In the same way that I like Lucas, or in the same way that I like you?"

"The latter. Unless there's something going on between you Brazilians that you haven't told me about."

" _Bobagens_ ," Bruno snorted. He doubted that Karun would know the meaning of the word, but he assumed his derisive tone would convey it sufficiently. "He doesn't _like_ me."

"Who doesn't, Lucas or Lewis?"

"Both!"

"You mean neither, don't you?"

Bruno opened his mouth to retort, found he couldn't untangle the grammar, and hit a chuckling Karun with his pillow instead, bringing an end to the conversation.

 

The following day, Bruno received an intriguing text message.

_Hey bud, got somethin 4 u! Meet u at ur room 2nite? Know u 3rd drivers aren't busy... ;)_

He made a face at his phone, as though Lewis might magically be able to feel his disapproval at that closing comment. Despite his mild annoyance, he replied in affirmation, knowing that he actually wasn't busy that night, with Karun or a sponsor anyone else. Perhaps he would get some sort of clue as to the reason behind Lewis's friendliness, or perhaps he should stop being suspicious and paranoid. Either way, he was going to get a present, so whatever happened, it couldn't be all bad.

 

Lewis showed up around nine, white plastic bag in his hand and an easy smirk on his face. Bruno eyed the bag with interest as Lewis passed him into his room. Whatever was in it was quite small and light. "Is it a new phone?," he asked hopefully. "Or a tablet?"

Lewis smiled, snorted and looked at Bruno as though he had horns peeking through his curls. "Is it your birthday?"

"No."

"Is your name Nicole?"

"No..."

"Then it's not a phone. Or a tablet." Lewis snorted once more for good measure. "And it's not a key for an MP4-12C. But I _did_ have to order it specially."

Bruno began to feel wary. "I hope it isn't some strange porn or something."

Rather than continue the game of guess-and-deny, Lewis gestured for Bruno to come closer, then opened the bag and fished inside. The faint worry drawing Bruno's eyebrows together faded into relief at the sight of the gift.

"A blue cap," he said as he exhaled, chiding himself for not having guessed.

"Ah," Lewis responded, in a _that's-not-all_ tone of voice, dropping the bag and turning the cap around until the Bruno could see the front and the white _Nacional_ logo.

"Ah," Bruno echoed, trying his best to sound pleased. _A replica Ayrton cap_. He smiled as naturally as he could for Lewis, who was visibly delighted with his purchase. He accepted the cap, giving it a cursory once over, turning it over in his hands. "You shouldn't have gone to the trouble, you know I can get these—"

"It's Ayrton's."

Bruno's hands stilled, and just for a moment, though he couldn't explain it, he felt his blood chill. Lewis's tone was hushed. Reverential.

"Ah," Bruno said after a few moments of not being able to say anything. This time he was incapable of making himself sound pleased at all.

"It's from 1993," Lewis said helpfully, eyes on the cap, either ignoring Bruno's discomfort or not hearing it. "At least, that's what the guy said. There's a certificate to go with it."

Bruno stared at Lewis, trying to get his train of thought back on track. "Still, you know, there are a few of these at home, if I wanted to I could have—"

Lewis shifted closer, voice soft again. "And I figured that if anyone should have this, it should be...you."

Bruno's mouth moved but made no sound, so he closed it, broke away from Lewis's gaze and looked back down at the cap. He dedicated a bit of functioning brainspace to wondering why this had poleaxed him so utterly. _It's just a hat. Ayrton's, but still just a hat._

"I suppose," were the words he finally formed. "Thank you." The thank you didn't sound quite right, like it hadn't come from his own mouth, but it was a thank you all the same.

Lewis's hand rose to pick a stray hair from the cap's peak, brushing Bruno's hand as it did so, and when Bruno lifted his gaze he found Lewis standing a lot closer than he remembered. The surprise of it almost made him lean back. "Thank you," he said again after a breath, slightly louder, almost a reflex, in case Lewis hadn't heard him, and offered a weak smile. Lewis smiled too, disarmingly.

Bruno felt it difficult to breathe until Lewis spoke again, mischief threading his voice. "C'mon, why don't you try it on?"

Bruno thought about refusing as politely as he could, discomfort washing over him in ever increasing waves, but something in Lewis's expression told him he wouldn't take no for an answer too easily. He squirmed a little, rolled his eyes a little and said "I suppose."

Perhaps the reason he was so offcentred by the gift – by Lewis, really – was the fact that it seemed to have robbed him of his vocabulary.

Taking it by its peak and deciding to just get it over with, Bruno deposited the cap on his head and tugged it into place, mustering that weak smile again by way of a flourish.

"Woah," Lewis murmured, leaning back and looking him over in a way that did little to allay Bruno's discomfort. A beat, and he grinned, laughed a little. He sounded amazed. "You should see this, man." He cast his eyes around the room, latching onto Bruno's arm and tugging him along once he sighted the wall mirror near the bed. It was darker at that end of the room, Bruno having left the main light off; quaint little lamps flanked the headboard to illuminate the bedspace. Bruno reached for the little chain to turn the nearest lamp on, but Lewis pulled him away.

"It's fine," he said. "See."

Indeed, when Bruno straightened up, he saw. He saw his shadowed reflection, complete with blue _Nacional_ cap, looked back at him. Bruno exhaled slowly – not a sigh, exactly – and regarded himself. He probably could've done with a shave today, he thought, rubbing at his chin. Didn't need a haircut, not for a few weeks at least. He did his best to ignore the reflection of Lewis watching him over his shoulder, eyes glinting in the semi-darkness.

"Kinda cool, right?" Lewis's words tickled Bruno's ear, hushed and deafening all at once.

Bruno bit his tongue at the reflexive compulsion to say 'I suppose' again. "It is. Kinda." He tugged self-consciously at a few of the curls peeking out from under the cap's edge, then reached up for the cap itself, figuring that this had been quite enough.

Lewis lurched for his hands.

"Wait! Don't take it off yet, please—" Urgency strung Lewis's voice tight as he seized Bruno by his wrists, pulling both arms back down to his sides. Bruno was too startled to put up much of a fight. "Not yet," Lewis murmured, wild eyes fixed on Bruno's reflection.

"Okay," Bruno replied eventually in as measured a voice as he could muster. He stood very still. "You can let go of me now."

Lewis continued to watch Bruno's reflection in silence, his expression serene. Bruno clenched his jaw.

"Lewis, let go of my wrists."

Lewis seemed not to hear. His gaze passed slowly over Bruno's face, taking it all in, lips slightly parted.

"Lewis," Bruno said firmly. He felt Lewis's breath coasting over his shoulder, felt his body heat, felt every tiny movement he made. Had he moved closer again without Bruno noticing?

" _Lewis_ ," he repeated, louder this time, the first vestiges of panic beginning to scratch at the edges of his mind.

Lewis's hands loosened and Bruno let out a shaky breath, only to freeze as those hands began to move up his forearms, fingertips light against his skin, gently stroking up and down.

Bruno wrenched away, spinning to face a startled Lewis, hand raised and finger pointed in warning. "I think you have to leave."

Lewis blinked a few times, seemingly out of breath, before the distant look returned to his eyes. He took a deep breath. "What was it like to drive that perfect lap in Monaco?"

" _What?!_ " Bruno was so flabbergasted that he let that warning hand drop. "Lewis, you're looking at Bru—"

Lewis was suddenly right there in front of him, earnest and feverish, dark eyes staring up at him. He smelled clean, freshly clean, with an earthy streak of some kind of aftershave. "What was it like to be out there driving, knowing you were the best out there?" His voice was a ragged whisper as he pressed against Bruno, hands sliding over his back. "Knowing you were the best there had ever been?"

Bruno stumbled backwards as Lewis clung to him, any protests he might have shouted cut off when Lewis's mouth met his in a desperate, bruising kiss. A panicked growl fought its way from Bruno's throat and he pushed hard against Lewis to little avail. He was muscular and wild, irrational; the inch or two of height Bruno had on him meant nothing. The two of them staggered across the room until Lewis grasped for Bruno's hand, pressing it against his crotch. The skin at the back of Bruno's neck prickled.

"I'm hard for you," Lewis panted, smearing a kiss across Bruno's throat and earning an unhappy moan from the Brazilian. "Fuck, I've been hard for you so many times, thought about you so much..."

Bruno squirmed and fought, not bothering to plead anymore. Those confessional words bouncing around in his skull, made more disturbing by the creeping awareness that Lewis wasn't talking to him at all.

He lost his balance and they crashed to floor, Lewis doggedly unfazed by their fall as he slithered all over the man now beneath him. "You were my first wet dream, you know," Lewis purred, rocking his hips against the press of Bruno's helpless hand and looking adoringly into his wide eyes. "Didn't understand it then, but—oh, Christ, Ayrton—"

The name shot through Bruno and drew his spine rigid. As if it inspired him with clarity, he finally seized hold of Lewis's wrist, sharply twisting his arm and using his grip to shove the other man upright, fumbling for the other wrist in the process. They squirmed and struggled in virtual silence until Bruno had enough leverage to shake Lewis sharply.

At the shake, Lewis lifted his gaze to Bruno's face, and abruptly, he stilled. His mouth moved soundlessly a few times. He didn't seem to want to blink.

At some point during their struggle, the cap had been knocked from Bruno's head. It lay upturned just behind him.

Bruno seized the moment of quiet calm to take a few breaths, willing his heartbeat back to normal.

Lewis stared at him, just stared and stared, breathing laboured. His hands curled and uncurled, grasping at nothing, until at last Bruno felt him relax, muscles easing under his hands. Just as Bruno was about to let go, however, Lewis leaned in towards him. Bruno stiffened but did not push him away.

Lewis brought his face close to Bruno's, angling his head to the side, as though he might whisper a secret. Whatever he was going to say, he began it with a name. The correct name. "Bruno—"

"You need to go," Bruno interrupted, letting a firm hand settle on Lewis's shoulder. Still sprawled underneath the other man, he wasn't exactly in a position of physical power. He figured that a hard enough shove would put Lewis on his back, if needs be—

"Just need to get the, uh," Lewis leaned even closer, the skin of his cheek catching against Bruno's stubble, before he withdrew into a crouched position, cap in hand. He offered Bruno an artificial smile. "I'll keep this, then, yeah?"

Feeling that all pretences, from his side at least, were lost, Bruno dragged himself from under Lewis and to his feet, not taking his eyes off the other man and not returning the smile. Lewis seemed oblivious to the wary stare, looking over the precious cap and brushed imaginary lint from it. "I think so," Bruno eventually said, slowly and deliberately. He took a small step backwards as Lewis stood, just in case. "It wasn't really something for me anyway, was it?"

"Of course it was!," Lewis exclaimed with a glare, hurt and frustration briefly gilding his words. His eyes darted away, hands pawing at the cap in his grasp. "You don't understand."

"Oh, I understand, should I wear a Senninha shirt for you next time?" Bruno snapped vehemently, and Lewis flinched, recoiled as though he'd been stung.

"It was for you," Lewis mumbled as he turned around. "If anyone should have this, it should be you. It was for you." He rubbed his hand over his head, over and over. It reminded Bruno of that damn conversation during the drivers' parade, the one that started all this.

Watching Lewis's turned back, unease still churning his stomach, Bruno began to wonder if he should call a doctor. Perhaps he would, after Lewis had gone and was far, far away from him.

Just as Lewis seemed about to leave, he hesitated, then turned to face Bruno again. That artificial smile had broken across his face anew. "Bruno," he murmured, and for some reason it seemed to make him smile wider.

Bruno gritted his teeth, feeling the shock of the whole thing subsiding and nervous anger swelling to take its place. He was ready to bark at Lewis to leave when the space between them vanished.

"He's important. You're important." Lewis's hand came to rest against Bruno's neck, thumb brushing his stubbled jaw, his gaze steady and penetrating. " _So_ important."

Bruno did his best to stifle a shiver. Lewis appeared to feel the dulled tremor run through Bruno's body, his hand shifting on Bruno's neck. _Getting a better grip._

"Don't come to see me again," Bruno said in a low, unsteady voice, once he'd reminded himself to breathe. He slid a hand along Lewis's arm, taking his wrist and easing it away from his face. "Not...for that."

Briefly, Lewis's face fell. Then he smiled again, as though Bruno had said nothing at all.

 

He left soon after without saying much else, leaving Bruno to sink dazedly into the nearest chair. His arms felt heavy and his fingertips tingled, so he rubbed his palms against his thighs. On trying to wet his lips he found that his mouth was bone dry. He occupied his mind by inwardly composing a text to Karun – something along the lines of _Hey, want to sleep in my bed tonight? Don't want to sleep alone_ , because the neediness and distress wouldn't be audible through text.

He needed a drink of water, a friend who was a bit more than a friend and a head empty of thoughts about Lewis and any kind of blue fucking cap.

His mobile, somewhere else in his room, chose that moment to ring. Bruno felt his stomach flip at the sudden sound, as though he was part of some ridiculous horror movie, and for a few seconds he sat motionless in the chair hoping it would stop. Then he pulled himself together and drew himself upright.

It was Karun. _"Hey, I brought a doggy bag back from the restaurant. Are you hungry? I promise it's not_ too _spicy."_

Bruno felt the anxiety begin to wash off his bones. He gave a wobbly smile, though Karun wouldn't see it. "What you think is 'not too spicy' is different to everybody else's 'not too spicy'." He took a breath. "Come over anyway. Stay over." The word 'please' danced on the tip of his tongue, but he kept it back.

There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line. _"Sure,"_ Karun replied, with a hint of warm mischief to his voice that deepened Bruno's smile. _"Everything alright?"_

"Don't be too long, okay?," Bruno responded softly, evading the question.

Another pause. Perhaps Karun was more perceptive than Bruno was giving him credit for. _"On my way."_

As he hung up, Bruno inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly through pursed lips. He hoped that he would somehow forget absolutely everything that had happened tonight; if it was never spoken of again, he could forget it, forget the genuine fear that had coursed through him, the disturbing shine in Lewis's dark eyes, and, perhaps selfishly, the concern for Lewis's mental health. He decided not to call a doctor. He'd wake up tomorrow and everything would be normal.

His phone buzzed in his hand, voicemail this time. The first thing to take his mind off tonight's events, he told himself.

It was Lewis. His voice was rough and quiet. _"Hey. Look, I-I'm sorry...for what happened, Bruno. I didn't mean to...I didn't mean for it to be like that, you know? I messed up so bad. I'm really sorry."_

There was a lengthy silence, long enough for Bruno to wonder if the line had gone dead, or if Lewis had hung up. All of a sudden, though he couldn't explain it, he felt his blood chill.

Lewis spoke again and Bruno could hear his smile.

_"Next time will be so much better. I promise."_


End file.
